Private School Daze
by Minerva Bee
Summary: Clary; the anti-social photographer from a public school. Jace; the quarterback superstar son of the Dean of Wayland Prep. They're completely different, but maybe opposites attract after all... AU/AH Will be lemons in future chapters!


**Hi! So this is my first official story, and I'll try to update as often as I can. Hopefully a few times every week at the least. I'm currently working without a beta, so I apologize for any grammatical errors you may find. I'd love constructive criticism from you all!  
><strong>**Enjoy!**

**-M**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

Breathe… You can do this.

The words repeated through Clary's head as her mother stopped in front of Wayland Prep, her new boarding school located smack dab in the middle of Snobville. Students stood out on the front lawn; some students reading beneath the large oak trees on the front lawn that provided a bit of shade in the late August heat, and other standing in small groups as they chatted animatedly. A group of guys tossed a football back and forth, stopping to talk to the girls on the side who watched them with flirtatious eyes. They all wore the school's uniform, some girls had their khaki skirts rolled up to show off their legs, and the guys had their blue jackets slung over their arm. They all looked like they just… fit there. It was exactly what you'd imagine the "average" High School would look like.

Clary slunk down in her seat and looked at the dash of her mother's beat up Subaru to keep herself from panicking further. There was nothing she hated worse than a new school, and a private school was no exception to that whatsoever. In fact, she felt even more nervous. Not only would she see these people every single day, she'd have to live with them every day except for Sunday, the one day she could leave campus. She'd be forced to try and fit in with the people who had endless money, or the braniacs who were on scholarships. She was neither, she was just the daughter-in-law of one of the teachers school, Luke Garroway. She was just the charity case who wasn't smart enough to truly deserve the scholarship papers she held in her right hand. She slumped even further in her seat, praying that if she fell far enough, the seat would be gracious and simply swallow her whole.

"Ugh, Clarissa Fray, stop that! You're going to get hurt." her mother said, glancing away from the road for the fraction of a second to give Clary the evil eye. Clary rolled her eyes and sat up, not quite understanding how trying to be eaten by their car could be considered dangerous, but only someone looking for a death sentence would argue with Jocelyn Fray. She was just as small as Clary, but she had the temper of a thousand men. Clary had learned over the years to just simply agree with her and make their lives a bit easier.

As her mother stopped the car in front of the school, Clary sighed heavily, and bit her bottom lip nervously. She looked over at her mom, and her eyebrows tugged together in distress as she asked, "Can't we just go home? I can deal with public school, if that's the problem. I'll be fine, I just… need to try to fit in with everyone a little bit more." The words were rushed together, sounding untrue. Which, honestly, they were. Clary didn't want anything to do with those people, but she'd prefer trashy public school kids to snobby private school kids.

"Clary, don't start. Luke's being very kind to you, letting you come here. You should be glad you got such an amazing opportunity as this." her mother replied, looking at her disapprovingly. Clary sighed, knowing how selfish she truly was being. Many people wanted into Wayland Prep, so much that they studied nonstop for a chance at their scholarship program. And here she was with one she didn't even earn, at a place she didn't belong, complaining about having a great opportunity.

She mumbled a sort of apology and unstrapped her seatbelt, opening the car door and walking to the back of the car, her eyes slinking to the ground to avoid eye contact with any of the students who were walking towards the front steps. She popped the trunk open, and looked at her two plain black suitcases that were littered with pins and stickers with tacky phrases and movie stars. She also had two duffel bags and a camera bag that held her baby, her Nikon. Her mother was the painter, she saw the world and painted it in her image, but Clary saw the world and captured it in that moment. A picture to save forever, and a moment captured in time. It was all so… Perfect.

She carefully put her camera bag over her shoulder before grabbing the two duffels and slinging them over each shoulder. She attempted to get the suitcases out of the trunk, but couldn't manage it without dropping the bags she had already collected, or falling into the trunk herself. Just as she was about to call out for help, her mother's slim hands shot into view, grabbing first one trunk, and then the other, placing them on the ground next to the car and shutting the trunk afterwards. She looked at Clary, and her face softened, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"I'm going to miss you." she said, wrapping her arms around Clary. Clary blinked back tears of her own and wrapped her arms around her mother as best as she could with the bags' weight against her shoulders. She breathed in the familiar scent of her mother and realized that as much as she didn't want to go to this school, she'd miss her mother the most.

"I'll miss you too, Mom." her voice cracked slightly at the end as she tried not to cry. Her mother was always overprotective, and Clary was never too far away from her watchful eye. Growing up, it had always been irritating, and exasperating. She was a teenager, and her mother would barely let her leave the house. She had always thought that when she turned eighteen, it'd be great because she could finally have some freedom. Only, standing here, about to gain some freedom, she wanted to stay in her mother's arms for a while. It was like a security blanket, or a nightlight for a child. Her mother was the only sure thing in this place that she had no idea about. Still, she pulled back, and grabbed the handles of each of the suitcases in both hands, and faced her mother.

Jocelyn wiped at her eyes and sniffled, composing herself before speaking again. "Remember, you have to check in with the Dean after you take all your stuff to your room, and do all of your homework, and be good. Shower daily." she said, the familiar controlling tone entering her voice as she looked at Clary reproachfully.

Clary turned bright red at the showering comment, feeling heat flame across the back of her neck and across her cheeks. "Mom, I know." she groaned, trying not to die on the spot from mortification. She looked around, praying no one was within ear shot. She made eye contact with someone across the yard, and she immediately turned back to her mother, not wanting to give anyone the wrong idea this soon into her sentence here.

"Clarissa Morgenstern-Fray, don't give me that attitude."

Hearing the familiar "fight" tone in her mother's voice, she immediately backed off. She did not want to start a fight with her mother at the moment. Not in front of all the people around her at the moment. So instead, she bit her bottom lip, and mumbled, "Sorry, I'm just nervous."

Her mother's face softened, and she pulled Clary into one last hug, before pulling back and kissing her cheek. "Good luck, you'll do great. I know you will." she whispered reassuringly in Clary's ear before pulling back and walking around the car, mumbling something about "sappy old woman," under her breath. Clary stepped back with all her baggage in tow and watched her mother's car until it had gone, smiling at her mother as she waved. She then took a deep breath, turning to face Wayland Prep, her new home, and sighed.

The building was huge, with red brick walls and white trim. On the front steps rose four marble pillars that stretched from the top of the huge marble staircase all the way up to the overhang of the roof. It was attached to a dome shaped entrance hall that branched out into the hallways, and such. At the very top of the dome was a bell tower, with a tiny balcony with golden railings that could over look the entire school. She realized that this was the first place she'd want to figure out how to get to. The view from up there must be incredible. The school was pretty isolated, surrounded by nothing but trees, and empty meadows. The only road into the school was a single long road, and it took at least a half an hour to reach the school once getting onto the road from the highway. It made the school a little more sketchy, as if they were trying too hard to keep all the kids here. Which in Clary's mind, was an accurate guess. Right beneath the balcony that had caught her immediate attention was a ginormous clock that showed that the morning had barely begun. Clary was sure she was gaping, the school looked like it had cost a _lot _of money to build. It just proved further that she didn't belong here. Honestly, even the _grass_ was perfect; cut down and so green it looked like one of those fake lawns.

She didn't know how long she was staring, but finally she blinked a few times and began walking up the main path, struggling to not drop the luggage that was already making her arms ache. It didn't help that already the weight of her bags were making her shoulders feel as if they would give out at any moment. She looked down at the paper in her hand, reading the room number she had been assigned to, and the name of her roommate, Isabelle Lightwood. Clary bit her lip, praying to god that she didn't end up with someone who hated her. At least she could have a roommate who was indifferent to her at the least.

"Watch out!"

She heard the shout, not recognizing the voice. Still, she automatically turned her head, expecting to see some poor kid get hit with something. Only, she realized a second too late that the poor kid was her as she saw a football hurtling straight at her. She tried to hold up her arms to protect her face, but her bags blocked her. She dropped her suitcases and held up her arms over her face, the ball crashing into her arms, and knocking her back slightly. She would have been fine if it wasn't for one of her suitcases being, of course, directly in the way of her feet. She toppled over, landing directly on her ass and grunting in pain as sharp pain shot directly up her spine. The addition of her duffel bags falling on top of her didn't help, causing her to lose her breath for a moment.

She dropped the straps off her shoulders and sat there for a moment, waiting for the pain that throbbed throughout her body to subside. She closed her eyes, hearing laughter, and people shouting random things that she blocked out. Great, day one and she was already making a laughingstock out of herself. She could feel her face heat up, and she fought back the blush of mortification that she felt creeping across her face. Suddenly, she saw a shadow pass over her eyes, and heard a quiet chuckle.

Her eyes snapped open, and she looked up, wanting to know who had the balls to laugh at her. She was already so close to breaking down as it was, and this was just icing on her "this day sucks" cake. She completely forgot what she was going to say as soon as she laid eyes on him, however. He was gorgeous to say the least, with golden hair that he wore slightly on the shaggy side. He towered over her, without a doubt almost two times the size of her. His body was lean and muscular; the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up to reveal strong looking arms that looked like they could easily lift her up, not that she wanted him to! She felt another blush threaten to appear, but she forced it back, looking up at his face. She noticed his eyes, which were almost the exact same color as his hair, only they lacked… life. It looked like he was asleep with his eyes open. He just had an air of boredom about him, like he was only there to make you happy, but there were so many other places he could be right now.

"Well, my apologies about that. You should really be more careful before walking into an intense session of football." he said, looking down at her and smirking lazily. Even his voice sounded far off, like he wasn't really there. The words flew off his tongue easily, with a slight husky tone that made her want to giggle, or bat her eyelashes at him. It was the kind of voice that made you imagine dirty things coming easily from his mouth… Oh, god. She felt her face flame up, and she wanted to die of mortification. She figured she probably wasn't the first girl who acted all needy over him, so instead of being like every other girl, she stood up, collected her bags off the ground and looked at him airily.

"Well excuse me, I'll try to remember that the _walkway_ is midfield. But you know, we wouldn't even need to speak if you could properly throw a spiral." she said, walking past him to pick up her suitcases off the ground. She saw his back stiffen, and she grinned to herself; now she had pretty boy's attention.

"For your information, I am the quarterback of our football team." he said indignantly as he turned to face her, glaring at her with those eyes that made her want to melt into a puddle of attraction-struck goo. What she noticed most of all, however, was that his eyes weren't spacey any longer. He was focused intently on her, and that glare made a blush tint the tips of her ears red.

She stood up with all her bags, and arched an eyebrow at him haughtily. "Oh? Then how come your ball hit me in the head when the person you were throwing to is way over there?" she asked, nodding her head towards one of his friends who was watching the conversation silently, probably trying to figure out what they were saying.

Everyone around them looked on in shock. They looked at her like she was crazy for talking to this guy… Whoever he was. Maybe it was because she wasn't falling at his feet, or something. Honestly, though, she wasn't that impressed. Sure he had the looks of a god, but underneath he was just a dumb jock, who probably was used to getting attention, and that's why he was such a cocky asshole.

"Well, I was just trying to get a chance to talk to you, of course." he said, winking at her and fixing his gaze upon her with a cocky little grin.

Ah, so _that's_ the kind of guy he was. She wasn't surprised though, honestly. He was gorgeous, of course he'd know it. She batted her eyelashes at him and gave a small, tight smile as she responded, "Well, just an F.Y.I, girls tend to find guys more attractive when they _don't_ pelt them with footballs."

"You think I don't know what girls like?" his lips pressed together, as if fighting a smile.

"Well, I'm assuming not considering my ass now hurts because you just had to talk to me."

"Well, my apologies then. Let's start over. Good morning, mi'lady, my name is Jace Wayland and it's an honor to talk to you after pelting you in the head with a football." he said, that little smirk coming back onto his face as he spoke.

Ah, a Wayland. Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Related to the owner of the school, probably a rich kid, didn't have to try at anything because he automatically got whatever he wanted. Yeah, this guy was definitely not someone she saw herself spending too much time around. She began walking away, ignoring the eyes of all her peers, and called over her shoulder, "Clary. Clary Fray. The pleasure's all yours." With that, she walked up the steps and into the building, feeling one pair of eyes burning into her back more than the rest of the people's. And if she turned to look at those eyes, she'd bet a million dollars that they'd be golden.


End file.
